Schulmeister fought for time to the last. He believed that something might happen to relieve him from his dangerous position. The general in command directed that he should be shot at sunrise. The Alsatian betrayed no emotion when he heard the dreadful words. Indeed, danger had become so great a part of his everyday life that it had no terrors for him. Death in any form did not shock him—not even when it was to be his own. He called for pen, ink and paper and spent a long time writing in his cell. It has been said that he scribbled reports which he hoped to have smuggled into the French lines. If this be true it proves that Schulmeister was as much patriot as spy. But the story rests on tradition, and, of course, is impossible of verification, by means of documentary evidence. After that he waited for morning. To the ordinary man this would have seemed a long black night, but there is nothing to indicate that it caused the Alsatian any great mental anguish. His mind was busy turning over the possibility of escape, but otherwise he was placid and self-contained. He simply sat there on his low wooden stool and watched for the sunrise that was to be the signal for his execution. While Schulmeister was going through this thrilling experience Napoleon was hammering at the gates of Vienna. He had pursued the armies of Russia and Austria from one point to another, all the time working to accomplish his favorite maxim, “Divide in order to subsist; concentrate in order to fight.” As the contest went along the ardor of the Russian army grew more intense. It advanced toward the position long studied by Napoleon and which he destined for his field of battle. We are told by the historian Guizot that in accordance with the plan of the Austrian general Weirother, the allies had resolved to turn the right of the French army in order to cut off the road to Vienna by assaulting the numerous corps dispersed in Austria and Styria. Altogether, the two emperors and their staff officers occupied the castle and village of Austerlitz. On the first of December, 1805, the allies established themselves upon the plateau Platzen. Napoleon by design had left this free, divining with a sure instinct of superior genius the maneuvers of the enemy he had cleverly drawn into the snare. His proclamation to the troops announced the plan of the battle. “Soldiers,” said he, “the Russian army presents itself before you to avenge the Austrian army of Ulm. These are the same battalions you have beaten at Hollabrunn and that you have constantly pursued to this place. The positions that we occupy are formidable and whilst they march to turn my right they will present me their flank.